


Far More Comfortable

by smolder



Series: Nostalgia [19]
Category: Cinderella - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Gen, Genderbending, Genderqueer Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolder/pseuds/smolder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But things had gotten worse, their cruelty increased – and Cinderella did not wish to ignore it and simply live like this the rest of her life. She would go to the Ball tonight, against their wishes, and these clothes now served as the alternative - she couldn’t use Mother’s gown, so she would go in her Father’s suit.</p><p>And, perhaps that meant, she would go as a man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter one: an unceremonious pile of pink and white

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afterandalasia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Cinderella is owned by Disney.  
> Prompt: _The stepsisters destroy Cinderella's mother's dress, but the mice mended her father's suit as well. So Cinderella wears the suit to the ball instead (possibly going by horse instead of the carriage)?_
> 
> _Don't mind if it's an AU with no fairy godmother, don't care whether it's a Prince or Princess Charming. Would looooove a genderqueer Cinderella._

Cinderella takes but a moment, after the four of them depart from her, to stare at her reflection in the mirror - to stare at herself wearing her mother’s destroyed dress. She does not reach out to touch the so badly treated garment for she fears that if she does as a secret part of her wishes to – _hold the torn shreds of the only thing she has left of the woman who died birthing her close to her, close her eyes and hug them as if they will hold her back and offer some comfort_ – all that will happen is that she will break down in tears.  
  
And that will do no good for _anyone_.  
  
So, she takes this solitary moment before she deliberately takes the devastated dress off, leaves it unceremoniously in a pile of pink and white upon the floor, and turns her back on the sight (casting it from her mind as well). She still has a Ball to go to after all; this is only a stumbling block on her way there.  
  
And so it is with renewed purpose in her heart that she walks away from one ruined path and opens the drawer to another – to another set of clothing her dear mice friends lovingly restored.  
  
Her Father’s.  
  
It is with a bit of awe that she runs her fingers over these garments; they bring such warm images to her mind, she can still picture him dressed in clothes of these sorts ( _memory hazy, until she can’t be sure of it, filled in so many times with her repeated daydreams – of the life she had before he died and everything changed, when things were simple, when she knew she was loved_ ).

It is with an excited smile, like a child playing dress up that she slides off her heeled shoes, discards the slip she had been wearing under Mother’s fancy dress and reaches for the deep blue trousers. ( _Glad she had secretly bathed earlier – it would not do to put on these things dirty, but bathing now would make her even later._ )  
  
She slides the white collared shirt over her head, buttoning it up to her neck. She begins to tuck it in but frowns at the excess room around the waist of her trousers – until more searching reveals a belt. The grey vest that comes next, presses down her breasts, giving the illusion - when she walks over to the mirror to see - that she is perhaps simply slightly a lad, broad in the chest and slim in the waist.   
  
The idea makes her grin, and she reaches for the rest of the costume, getting the hand of tying the ascot about her throat after the third try – the rich brocade fabric ( _blue, gold, and silver in a small pattern of stars_ ) uncommonly smooth to her work callused fingers. There is even a gold pin in the drawer, with her family’s old house crest, to be placed at the center of the knot.   
  
( _Oh, she must leave out a full plate for the mice – not just scraps, a full meal with deserts and everything. They certainly deserve it._ )  
  
Lastly is the jacket; Father had not been a large man – and as Cinderella had come of age she had grown rather tall (almost un-seemingly so) for a woman. The coat slid onto her easily (‘ _as if she was meant to wear it_ ’ a part of her whispers), settling about her shoulders, the heaviness of it a comfort to her. She absentmindedly smoothed the lapels as she gazed upon the now completed look in the mirror.  
  
When she had first seen these garments, Cinderella had secretly thought them a good precaution - spare clothing in case things somehow got even worse here with her step-family. ( _Something she hadn’t thought possible at the time._ ) They would be a set of clothing that could hide her, in that worst case scenario, where she might have to run.   
  
But things _had_ gotten worse, their cruelty increased – and Cinderella did not wish to ignore it and simply live like this the rest of her life. She _would_ go to the Ball tonight, against their wishes, and these clothes now served as the alternative - she couldn’t use Mother’s gown, so she would go in her Father’s suit.  
  
And, perhaps that meant she would go as a man.  
  
The thought wasn’t as jarring as it should have been. Cinderella felt intrigued instead, thought of it as a sort of puzzle; she bit her lip tilting her head.   
  
And abruptly picked up the sharp scissors that had been lain on top of the dresser containing the adjusted clothing and after looking at her reflection carefully for only a moment longer Cinderella cut off her hair at the base of her neck with very little sentimentality for her locks . Carefully then, she trimmed here and there attempting to make her coif look presentable ( _and not like it had just been done that night with tailors sheers._ )  
  
Sitting up straight again she brushed loose hair off her face and shoulders. Pleased with her work, she grinned at her reflection – and was surprised at the joyful, almost playful expression that crossed the man's face in the mirror. Cinderella knew her features would never appear _masculine_ but there was something about this reflection of herself that felt far more comfortable than the one in heels. Perhaps it was because it was her Father’s clothing she was now wearing – _he, whom had always made her feel safe and loved_ \- instead of her Mother’s – _whom she had never had a chance to know_.   
  
It didn’t matter really, with boots upon her feet (multiple stocking making up the sizing difference) she left the home she had known for so long (in happy and trying times) and closed the door on that life. ( _After leaving a veritable feast out for her tiny friends who had always been so kind to her, of course._ ) And with bright blue eyes hopeful, and lightness in her chest, she began the trek towards the glowing castle in the distance.


	2. chapter two: valiant rescuers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Cinderella is owned by Disney.  
> Prompt: _The stepsisters destroy Cinderella's mother's dress, but the mice mended her father's suit as well. So Cinderella wears the suit to the ball instead (possibly going by horse instead of the carriage)? Don't mind if it's an AU with no fairy godmother, don't care whether it's a Prince or Princess Charming. Would looooove a genderqueer Cinderella._

The weather that night is pleasant and it feels wonderful to be able to walk this way, as if for leisure. To look up at the clear sky and see the stars ( _she thinks she remembers some of the constellations - could name them if asked to do so. Father used to teach her such things, even though she was a girl. Used to sit her upon his lap, take her finger and trace the words in the book as he said them aloud - until she was almost positive they had a physical feel to them as well as a sound._ ) Her only worry about traveling on foot is that she might be so very late - perhaps miss the Ball entirely.  
  
When she reaches a road, carriages begin to pass her (she tries to stay out of the way, both for _their_ convenience and so that _she_ will not be dirtied by the passing of horses and rolling wheels). And this becomes an excitement all of it's very own - because although some of the carriages are similar to those she has seen before in town, other are quite grand: flags high and colorful, edges painted with gold, pulled by white horses, and controlled utterly by serious men in meticulous suits sitting with perfect posture.  
  
She is rather stunned when one of the fancier ones pulls to a stop next to her. Cinderella, stops walking, uncertain of what she is supposed to do.  
  
And that is when a curtain is pulled back showing the heads of two girls - that from the matching blonde hair pilled atop their head and wide brown eyes, she would guess were sisters. One seems to be around her age and the other quite a few years younger, but both are perfectly dressed for a night at the castle.  
  
"Sir," the younger asks, "are you alright? Has your carriage been damaged?"  
  
But the elder takes control of the situation even before she can answer, "Were you simply going to _walk_ the rest of the way? That won't do at all.You shall ride with us," she declares firmly, opening the door. And, seeing no way to decline politely, Cinderella climbs in.  
  
"Thank you, good ladies," she says once seated. "I am honored by your hospitality and kindness."  
  
"Nonsense," the elder girl says but a pleased blush is evident on her pale skin, "anyone would have stopped for a traveler so obviously going to the same destination."

"I must disagree with you," Cinderella dipped her head in apology even as she did feeling her hair move about her head differently than she was used to, "many carriages passed me by."  
  
They both frown at this and she flounders a bit in her brain for how to continue. Cinderella feels very out of practice, having not mingled with polite society for so many years, she does not know the little things she is supposed to say. The small talk and casual comments about weather, events, and clothing.  
  
And now she is looked upon as a man - Cinderella feels oddly jolted remembering this fact. These people would not look upon her only as a stranger, but as a man.  
  
Her actions would not be restrained by either prior perception ( _the girl who was a servant in her own home_ ) or by her gender - she could be whoever she wished, act however she wanted to.  
  
Still though, Cinderella felt caution, did not wish to act rashly. Why would she be so very different in attitude and manner just because she was male after all?  
  
"May I have the gift of your names, my Ladies," she inclines her head again, in lieu of a proper bow.  
  
They smile again at this. "You certainly may, Sir. I am Lady Reliel," the elder begins.  
  
"And I am her sister - Lady Avaliel," the younger continues, "But everyone calls me Ava," she says, still completely serious.  
  
"Of course - they are both lovely names," she assures the little girl and gets a beaming smile in return.  
  
"What of you, sir? May we know the name of the mysterious fellow we rescued from the highway?" Lady Reliel's tone is teasing.  
  
"Please, call me, Ellis," Cinderella says not _quite_ answering the question, and in the sidestep she feels she is only telling a _half-lie_.  
  
"Well, Lord Ellis, it is good fortune that we found you," Lady Ava says automatically adding on the title ( _and Cinderella feels no need to stop her - if Father had not died so suddenly, she would have been properly in line to inherit the manor and land after all_ ). "Our escort fell ill and had to stay back at the inn. We were able to convince him that we would be in good hands with the driver on the way, but I know Irving will give a sigh of relief to know there was someone to look after us at the Ball as well."  
  
"And that he shall be able to tell our parents as such," Lady Reliel murmured in an aside that was clearly audible to her ears.  
  
Cinderella's lips twitched and she fought to stay formal as she said, "I would be honored to act as escort to my valiant rescuers," and they both grinned at her use of Reliel's turn of phrase.  
  
"But, I fear I must apologize now for not being the best companion this coming evening," she warned, smiling self-deprecatingly. "I fear that my family was not very interested in nurturing my social life," she parses out the words carefully ( _even though it is one of the larges understatements she has ever said in her life_ ). "And this shall be the first Ball I have attended."  
  
"Really?" Ava asked in shock. "I've been to so many - and you're as old as Rel!"  
  
But her sister held more tact. "I think I know the type you are speaking of," she sighed, obviously disapproving. "I've heard mother complaining about some families these days - more concerned about the men learning to hunt and run the manor than make connections. Both are of importance."  
  
Cinderella nodded, "Yes, I agree. And this is why I ask for your aid in navigating the Ball."  
  
They positively lit up at her plea. It made her wonder - but then again, when she stopped to consider, they were young noble women and it was probably a very rare thing indeed that people asked what they thought, wanted their particular aid.  
  
They sisters traded a look, and were in total agreement. "We'd love to, Lord Ellis," the elder said, grinning wide. "With our help you shall fit right in."

 


	3. chapter three: just waiting all along

t was soon after that they rolled to a stop, and looking out the window she felt amazed by simply the scale of the castle – not to mention all of the lights and the people in grand clothing.  
  
The door was then opened from the outside and not quite understanding the procedure, Cinderella simply climbed out. Only then did she see that the driver was still setting up the steps for a more dignified exit.  
  
Flushing, and hoping to cover up her faux pas, she turned to the man dressed in smart livery and gave a small bow. “Sir,” she asked him earnestly, “would it mean you any disrespect if I were to have the honor of helping the Ladies from the carriage? They have shown me such kindness this night.”  
  
And the disapproving look upon the older man's face melted away into a thoroughly pleased expression. “Of course, my Lord. I must admit, I was hesitant to stop when I saw you walking but my Ladies are a headstrong pair – and they seem to have been correct yet again. Don’t tell them I said that,” he muttered in aside, grinning.  
  
“Certainly not,” she said back, smiling as well. She then stepped up to the side of the carriage and handed first Ava then Rel, carefully down in their large skirts and heeled shoes. ( _Cinderella felt a wave of appreciation for the relative simplicity of her Father’s suit in comparison. She did not think she would have been able to handle that female contraption with such grace - her everyday frock seemed a different creature entirely._ )  
  
Once they were all upon the ground, she was again unsure of the next proper step. This problem was taken out of her hands by both ladies twirling an arm around one of her own.   
  
“Thank you, Benjamin!” Ava called ( _probably a tad to loudly_ ), gesticulating wildly with her free hand, to their driver who chuckled and waved back to the young girl kindly. Cinderella, with no arms available simply gave a nod as she saw Lady Reliel do in her much more contained manner.   
  
Turning back towards the castle ( _the bright, glittering, building that she had been dreaming about – always so high in the distance and now right in front of her_ ) they walked up the long flight of steps together. Ava was chatting happily about a rabbit she had found injured in the gardens that her mother had allowed her to keep until it was well again. ( _She had named it Sigmund._ )   
  
As they got to the top and began to enter though, Cinderella felt her wonder sour into trepidation – what if someone ( _specific someones, if she were honest_ ) saw her like this? Recognized her face in these clothes; would they say something? Would they yell at her in front of all of these people and break this evening that had already been so wonderful ( _full of easy conversation and friendship that she has not had in so long - long enough that it is hard to pin down definitively, that it makes her sad to even ponder it._ )  
  
Perhaps, feeling the sudden tension in her, Lady Reliel turned and smiled soothingly - even going so far as to pat her arm. “Don’t feel nervous, Lord Ellis. You are doing wonderfully,” she whispered – and the words actually did make her shoulders un-tense a bit.

Because as they began to mingle in the front rooms, Cinderella saw there was actually little need to worry – she wasn’t getting recognized at all in this place. The suit and shorn hair seemed to mean that even if someone who spoke to her every day ran right into her they would never think this man was the girl who scrubbed floors. ( _Why would that even occur to them after all?_ )   
  
She was also oddly guarded against any detection by the presence of the two Ladies as well. Because, although their eyes were of differing colors and their hair diverse shades of blonde - the fact that she( _a man_ ) had come with them and shared their carriage ( _while not being Lady Reliel’s husband_ ) made people assume that they were related.   
  
And cued up in line to be presented to the main ballroom, it is Ava on her right that is closest to the man that asks for their names. So, as the three of them enter, with many eyes watching, it is to a voice loudly saying: "I present: Lady Reliel, Lord Elis, and Lady Avaliel!"  
  
She feels her shoulders pull back firmly, steps more sure, and it seems almost as if a bit of her personality is clicking into place - and for some reason it _fits_. There is a place in her for this that was just waiting all along.


	4. chapter four: new and wonderful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Cinderella is owned by Disney.

  
  
Once inside the ballroom, they find a table along the outside edge where they have a good view too watch other men and women be announced.  
  
And speaking of women – many were looking at her ( _but no – not her – him, she supposed_ ). As they walked by she had noticed it all about her: little turns of the heads and upward glances through their eyelashes as they slowly smiled. Cinderella felt a bit confused by it all honestly, not knowing the proper response to what she was well aware was flirting ( _should she nod as she had to the driver - or was that too forward when she had no yet met them - perhaps just smile back politely? And by the time these thoughts are through her head they had gone past and the point was moot_ ). She knew the feminine part of this dance ( _albeit only in theory_ ), but now that she was expected to fulfill the masculine side of the equation, she was left with her eyes jumping away from others’ and a blush upon her cheeks.  
  
But it seemed her “shyness” was endearing - Rel giggled at her, trying to cover it with a hand over her mouth, and patting her arm comfortingly again when she saw she had been caught. "Do not worry, Lord Ellis. We shall get you through this in tact," and although they are about the same age her tone is almost motherly.  
  
"My hero," Cinderella nodded solemnly back, making Ava laugh loudly and lean against her in mirth.  
  
Grinning, Lady Reliel said, "This is all good fun, Ellis but can you dance? That is quite important to tonight's proceedings."  
  
“Of course,” Cinderella answered immediately – she had learned as a girl, all proper ladies were taught such things after all. "I might be rusty though," she admitted ducking her head a bit, feeling sheepish about her previous confident answer.  
  
"Oh me first!" Ava said, a delighted smile on her face, grabbing the cuff of her suit sleeve as the orchestra started the next song and towing her along towards the dance floor ( _she untangles her left arm from Rel apologetically who gives her an understanding look, quite used to her little sister's antics_ ).  
  
And Cinderella did not have a chance to really become anxious - although she did reach out slightly before retracting her hands uncertainly, not knowing exactly where to put them - but the small blonde girl simply giggled ( _a few people glanced over at the sound, smiling indulgently at, what appeared to be a man dancing with his little sister_ ), taking one of ‘Lord Ellis’ hands in each of hers and placing them in the proper place. She guided them gently through the first steps – and then, then it was _easy_.  
  
Because, Cinderella _did_ know how to dance. And _leading_ wasn’t an awful hard concept to grasp when _following_ was such a distant memory, and these days most of her dancing was alone anyway.  
  
“Did you see me twirl?” Ava demanded of her sister, a few minutes later, when they returned.  
  
“Of course I did,” Rel responded, gently brushing a piece of hair behind her ear.  
  
“You did a wonderful job teaching me, Lady,” Cinderella proclaimed, bowing to the girl before standing straight again.  
  
“I thought you said you already knew how,” she squinted at her suspiciously.  
  
“Well, refreshing my memory then,” Cinderella conceded easily. “My lessons were very long ago – and I am sure the teachers weren’t nearly as clever,” she grinned down at the girl who happily wrapped an arm about hers at this.  
  
“Good answer,” Ava whispered to her quietly, from her other side, in a voice that attempted to stifle her amusement. " _Now_ ," she said louder, before the conversation could devolve further, "as I said in the carriage, these Balls are about making connections with people. If you do not get much opportunity to socialize in such a way, you should choose carefully which ladies you ask to dance."  
  
"Then I would be honored to dance with you of course, Lady Rel. _Unless_ your card has already been filled,” she teased, feeling such joy in being able to speak with others in this way ( _Cinderella did not really feel used to the fact that they were not speaking down to her as her step-family did. But with these sisters there was no disdain in their voices, no sneering, yelling, nor anger_.) – there was an almost instant easy camaraderie between the three of them. And it felt so new and wonderful that they seemed to enjoy her presence, that she was making friends.  
  
“Oh you,” Rel tapped her arm lightly, a flush lighting up her pale skin, but she quickly tamped it down switching back to her no-nonsense attitude. “What are the qualities of the lady you wish to dance with?” she asked, ever so seriously.  
  
And because it _was_ asked in such a serious manner, she took it as so. Looking down at her Father's boots on the intricately tiled floor and pondering for a while before quietly saying, “ _Sad_.”  
  
Looking up Cinderella could see that her answer was confusing to the other two blondes, so she tried to explain. “If the lady is already in high spirits from the joy of this outing, I do not see how my presence will make their night better or worse,” she stated pragmatically. “But if they are _unhappy_ , perhaps I can at least be a distraction from their troubles for a time.”  
  
Rel studied her carefully before stating, “I do not think I quite understand you, Lord Ellis. But I am more than happy to help you in this. _Sad_ ,” she repeated looking contemplative before just shaking her head bemusedly and smiling up at her. “Let us have that dance you spoke of. It will be productive - we shall gaze at those about the room as we circle. Perhaps then we shall pick your future lady. Ava,” she turned to her sister, “I know you wish to wander but can you stay around these tables? I do not want to lose you amongst all of these people.”  
  
“The three of us will explore later,” Cinderella told the younger girl when she opened her mouth to argue.  
  
The mouth snapped shut and curled into a wide smile, "Do you promise?" she demanded tugging at the blue coat sleeve she was curled about.  
  
"I promise," she said with perhaps too much meaning in her tone ( _but these were people that felt like possibly friends, and Cinderella was feeling everything a lot - so fresh and full of wonder - this night_ ) and luckily Ava just grinned even wider in return.


	5. chapter five:the way in which they moved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Cinderella is owned by Disney.

  
  
  
  
  
Dance after dance, and Cinderella thinks her eyes must have their own dizzying fire by now from all the twirling and the glow of the candelabra's light sparkling off of fine ladies gems. And they laugh so very merrily together, and so often, she has never had such a time, such friendship.  
  
They were very careful choosing the women for her to dance with. All three of them studying the large ballroom for long stretches ( _not that it was a chore, at all, to dance with Rel and Ava as they searched_ ). And it was always the ones who were sitting by themselves, looking so lonely despite their finery. Because Cinderella thinks - this, yes _this_ , is probably how she would have been, had she dressed in a gown, and come to this place tonight knowing no one.  
  
Just alone and a bit sad, watching everything go by.  
  
And so it makes her happy to see the way their faces light up when she bows low and asks for a dance. Once she is leading their feet through the steps, Cinderella (or Lord Ellis, she supposes) talks to them: asks for their name ( _and knows she will remember each and every one, this night is already so precious to her_ ), where they hail from ( _it feels like she is going on a trip around the world – when she says this to one of her partners, they giggle, clutching her lapels_ ) and specific questions about their hobbies ( _very few actually like the embroidery expected of ladies of their station, and when they see she is looking for a real answer, eyes will brighten. There is one girl who talks animatedly about her leatherworking; very delicate scenes, as intricate as any artist’s drawing. Her parent’s are supportive and she hopes dearly for an apprentice_.)  
  
Cinderella tries her hardest to make each and every one of them smile as she spins them around the floor. It feels good that when the music ends, and they part, the women no longer look quite so sad.  
  
Back with Rel and Ava again, she sips gratefully at the glass handed to her. The last dance had been a bit faster and she is happy to cool down for a few moments.  
  
"Oh, ask _her_ next," Ava suggests, pointing over her shoulder (while leaning a bit upon it) and their is something distinctly michievious in her tone.  
  
"Avaliel!" her sister, glared over at her sounding faintly scandalized.  
  
"Doesn't she look sad?" the younger of the two refutes, with a grin, not the least bit repentant.  
  
But although she can tell that there are multiple layers going on in this conversation, Cinderella was high on her merriment, the company, ( _and perhaps a bit of the wonderful wine the flowed so freely_ ).  
  
"I shall dance with her," she proclaims, setting her glass upon a nearby table and stopping the building argument. "Where is the harm?"  
  
Lady Reliel's face is oddly blank at this question but she doesn't argue. Turning her head then, she tries to see if she can spot the lady Ava was pointing at over her shoulder earlier - and it is easy to see why the young girl picked her out, she certainly does look melancholy.  
  
So, right as the strains to the next song began, the girl that was once a scullery maid walked up to the beautiful woman who was standing near a closed off balcony, gazing off into the night, looking so wistful ( _and so very sad_ ). Cinderella wondered what caused such an expression upon her delicate face – remembered many a night, staring at the stars, when sorrow had threatened to pull her under – and so it was with a gentle, empathetic, smile that she approached and quietly asked..  
  
“May I have this dance, Miss?”  
  
  
***  
  
  
Princess Charming watched the man approach out of the corner of her eye, the words to send him politely but firmly away upon her lips ( _such well used things that she could say almost without thinking about it at this point_ ). But, as she observed him, she noticed something seemed different about this fellow. His features were almost strikingly pretty ( _that was not the uncommon thing, the upper class were a vain lot after all_ ) and there was a gentle wave to his golden hair that made one want to run their hands through it.  
  
The oddity though, was the way in which he walked - there was no swagger to it. She realized that she had come to expect that, a swagger. All of the other Princes and Lords seemed to have it, holding their self-importance to them so closely that it became a very part of the way in which they moved.  
  
“May I have this dance, Miss?” he asked with a gentle tone to his voice, and such a look of understanding upon his face that it left her rather breathless - which was _silly_ , it was just a voice after all, just blue eyes ( _such a clear deep blue_ ).  
  
But, despite the silliness, she still wished to get him to talk agian, to keep looking at her like that. Her plans, that had been holding strong throughout the night, to brush aside any who approached her, crumbled and broke down at the single question. She had always been one to trust her instincts though, and did so now, her gloved hand sliding into the one outstretched to her ( _it intrigued her that it did not do so altogether smoothly, that his hand had was not soft as most nobility's were. It was callused - which spoke of work of some sort_ ).  
  
But those thoughts scattered when she finally registered what he had called her: "Miss". And it actually made her hold her breath for a moment wondering wildly if it was possible that he didn’t know who she was. But how could that be? This ball was in her honour after all.  
  
But perhaps that was persumptious of her – invitations had been flung far and wide and not all would know her simply on site.  
  
"May I have the honour of your name lady?" he asked calmly, their hands held together between them. And didn't that answer her question rather cleanly?  
  
"It-it's Nolana," she blurted awkwardly, giving him her first name, that only her parents truly called her. Still rather thrown that he did not know that the person right in front of him at this moment was the Princess of these lands  
  
" _Nolana_ ," he repeated, as if savoring it within his own mind, keeping it locked in his memory. "I like that name, it suits you." And she felt oddly pleased by the remark, because she had always thought so to - had always been perturbed that she was to be Princess Charming, out of _respect_.  
  
"Perhaps," her eyes moved across the crowds of nobles who would continually stare and track her every movement, before darting back to the man who still patiently only held her hand next to the windows she had been gazing out of. "Perhaps, we can dance in the gardens?" she attempted to use all of her finishing school training to smile winningly( _they had never been altogether happy with her at that school_ ).  
  
"Of course, Nolana," he grinned down at her. "But I'm afraid you are going to have to lead the way - I do not know my way around this large place."  
  
"Well," she giggled, moving to his side and looping and arm around a blue-coated one, feeling infinitely more comfortable than she had all night, "don't worry about that - I know this castle like the back of my hand."


	6. chapter six: let herself dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Cinderella is owned by Disney.  
> This is one of the prompts I picked up over on the DisneyKinkMeme that ended up longer, so I decided to post it as it's whole story instead of with the other bits in the "Twisted Nostalgia" collection. The prompt was: The stepsisters destroy Cinderella's mother's dress, but the mice mended her father's suit as well. So Cinderella wears the suit to the ball instead (possibly going by horse instead of the carriage). Don't mind if it's an AU with no fairy godmother, don't care whether it's a Prince or Princess Charming. Would looooove a genderqueer Cinderella.  
  
 

 

 

And there was has not been much dancing, but more walking instead. Nolana can’t find that she regrets the change in plans however because her companion, with whom she is arm and arm with giving this impromptu tour, is just so _charming_ (and she is well aware of how ironic that is).

It doesn’t make it any less true though, she has never seen a man - or anyone grown, truly - look upon the castle with such genuine wonder. She is happy that he doesn’t know who she is, that he isn’t doing this to be complimentary, in some strange way, and ingratiate himself to her - instead, this is simply truly his manner.

Lord Ellis stops their forward momentum and tilts his head to the side to examine a bit of embroidery detail sewn into a pillow on one of the sofas along the hallway, smiling at it almost absentmindedly as he traces it with his finger. When he looks back up at her, with those blue blue eyes still alight with warm curiosity, and a golden curl fallen onto his forehead she has to stop herself from reaching forward as well (because she wouldn’t be touching the pillow).

Instead she grins brightly and pulls him along again, pointing out a particular painting there or this stairwell with the twirling posts of bronze, the high vaulted ceilings covered in vines and fairies in these rooms to the right, or the way the windows shows a spectacular view of the night sky over here. And the entire time Lord Ellis is interested in what she has to say and points out things that he notices as well - ask her questions about them even.

She wishes they could just keep doing this for hours and hours. Quite simply because she is _happy_. Nolana knows she has not felt this light and carefree since planning for the Ball began ( _or perhaps even before that - since she became aware that she must marry by a certain time, quickly running short._ ) But she also knows well that they have been gone much too long already - and that every minute she has been missing from the ballroom will have been noted by the Nobles.

_But - but_ \- there is something incredibly giving in Ellis’ nature that makes her want to be greedy for once. Makes her lean against the solid strength of his arm about hers, more than might be necessary just so she can have the feel for herself, the warmth. Makes her keep wanting to _take_ a little more ( _as much as he is willing to give_ ), so that she will at least have this night to hold in her memory later.

Makes her _want_ \- more than she knows her future ever will be able to provide. But there is still tonight; she will let herself dream a bit, she can let Ellis’ wonder seep into her. (And she can be practical again tomorrow).

When she sees the doors leading outside to the garden up ahead, she takes a small chance (because ladies are not supposed to ask such things), and smiles up into those blue eye’s that seem to find hers at soon as she glances over, and asks, “Would you care to dance now, Lord Ellis? Are location is just ahead,” she tried to make her tone teasing but wasn’t sure she was successful with the fluttering in her stomach, the way her muscles tense. Because he does not know she is royal, does not have to stand on ceremony and follow tradition.

( _Does not have to like her._ )

He lets go of her arm and she immediately mourns the loss of contact, nearly thinks the worse. But, as he bows and takes her covered hand, kissing it gently she loses her fear that she was being turned down. But, it was hard to think of much though when she saw him do such things ( _except perhaps wish she was not wearing gloves and could have felt his lips upon her skin._ )

“I would be honored, Lady Nolana,” he said softly, as he stood straight, and offered her his arm again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Cinderella is owned by Disney.  
> This is one of the prompts I picked up over on the DisneyKinkMeme that ended up longer, so I decided to post it as it's whole story instead of with the other bits in the "Twisted Nostalgia" collection. The prompt was: The stepsisters destroy Cinderella's mother's dress, but the mice mended her father's suit as well. So Cinderella wears the suit to the ball instead (possibly going by horse instead of the carriage). Don't mind if it's an AU with no fairy godmother, don't care whether it's a Prince or Princess Charming. Would looooove a genderqueer Cinderella.

chapter seven: caught up in the moment  
  
  
  
Cinderella wondered if she was breathing or if she had simply forgotten such silly things while the rest of her body was so very caught up in this dance. She would not blame it for doing so, she wished to concentrate everything she had in remembering every single aspect of this night - but most especially perhaps, _Nolana_. Breathing surely was happy to come second to that.  
  
All of the ladies this night had been beautiful and dressed up in such fancy gowns, that she has never seen the like. But there is something else about Nolana that is simply captivating - in the way the moonlight shone off her sleek dark hair, the way her brown eyes seemed to sparkle when they pulled in close to each other, the way her mouth would curl into such a wide delighted grin when telling her about the castle.  
  
Nolana had a different smile now, something small and content as she paused in their dancing and took yet another step forward, until she was close enough to reach her arms around Cinderella’s neck and rest her head on the shoulder of Father’s blue coat. The feel of those gloves sliding along the skin of the back of her neck made her heart beat faster, made her swallow roughly, but there was something altogether wonderful about this position as well. And if her partner was not uncomfortable, perhaps it was only her lack of experience with society which made her more sensitive to the slightest bit of touch.  
  
What Cinderella was wholly unaware of was that it only took another slight change in position for the entire length of Nolana’s body to be pressed against hers. Perhaps later, when she dreamed of this night, the thought would cross her mind ( _for she was quite well acquainted with the power of fantasy, how that could feed her_ ).  
  
But now, she was too caught up in the moment. In the strains of music, barely heard, from the ballroom, the smell of flowers seen shadowed in the darkness around them, the glitter of the lights of the Castle in the corner of her eye, and the soft sway of their bodies.  
  
She was living in the moment - had been since the night began and she left a tattered dress behind on the floor. Cinderella had no real plan past this night, past the next moment (she would deal with it when she must).  
  
The woman with whom she was dancing believed she only had tonight as well - but she was not quite as satisfied to take things as they came to her. Her future loomed large, made her bold to grab a bit of happiness.  
  
**  
  
Nolana sighed and combed her fingers through the hair at the nape of Lord Ellis’ neck. Noting the way he paused but did not pull away or remark negatively - and after only a moment, they continued their dance.  
  
This felt - so very wonderful. She felt warm, safe, and there was an altogether pleasant hum in her body. Did she dare press for more?  
  
Did she truly _want_ to? The answer to that was certainly, yes, if she were truthful with herself ( _Was barely a question, when the answer came so instantly to her mind_ ). And Nolana knew that however magical this felt, what she wished for most of all, was a kiss.  
  
Just like a storybook tale.   
  
She would have this to look back upon after she was tied up in some political marriage. To dream of this night.  
  
And so, if she was to marry, as a Princess must, did she not deserve a kiss from the only man who has made her feel so very appreciated? Who listened when she spoke and smiled at her in a way that made her want to touch, to pull close.   
  
Who treated her so kindly without knowing she was royal; who liked _Nolana_ , not just Princess Charming?  
  
And she had thought about that fact, in the back of her mind, as they walked about the Castle. Lord Ellis had not known who she was, so it was unlikely he came to ask for her hand. A Prince of Noble, even from a distant place, would have been better prepared than that, if her aquience was their goal. He was probably the relation of another at this Ball who had that in mind. Ellis might not want such a life, himself.  
  
She wanted this chance before they had to go back to the bright lights and stares of the ballroom. Wanted this chance to stay Nolana for a few a while longer, before Lord Ellis realized she was anything more.  
  
And so, as Nolana, she stepped forward the last bit of space separating them, tilted her head up towards him and pressed up on her toes, to meet Ellis in a kiss.


End file.
